Worse Than Jack's Worst Nightmare
by drinkinthemoment
Summary: Jack awakens in the Refuge, and Snyder informs him this will be his most miserable stay yet. Jack doesn't believe him, but quickly realizes he wasn't kidding. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

Jack had just woken up, but before he opened his eyes, he knew something wasn't right. It was quiet. Too quiet for the lodging house. A small ache started in his temples, but he pealed his eyes open anyway and confirmed something was very wrong. He was lying on a concrete floor in what appeared to be a jail cell, bars surrounding him on all four sides. The only light entering the dark room was from a window near the ceiling that was just at street level indicating he was underground.

"Welcome back to the Refuge," a familiar voice sneered. Snyder. "A little different than you remember?" Jack didn't respond, too stunned to speak. He'd heard rumors of the Refuge's basement previously, but he didn't want to believe he possibly could have ended up there. "The basement is where we keep the boys who will get the worst beatings so their screams don't disrupt everyone else. This is going to be your most miserable stay yet."

Jack rolled his eyes, reflecting on his previous stints in the Refuge, knowing that Snyder would make his life a living hell but he would never give him the satisfaction of knowing so. He knew he would be beaten and broken, the pain may become unbearable at a point, but he would take it without a word. "I've been thinking about you, Kelly," Snyder interrupted Jack's thoughts. "You've gotten way too good at taking my beatings. I know I cause you pain," Snyder paused and lifted Jack's shirt to admire the scars he had inflicted in previous stays, "but you're so good at pretending it doesn't hurt. It really makes it less fun for me. So how can I punish you?"

"Guess you can't," Jack smirked, pulling away from Snyder's grip and pulling his shirt back over his scar-covered torso, but knowing Snyder had something evil planned.

Snyder turned to the darkness behind him and yelled, "bring him in, boys."

Two of Snyder's guards escorted in Race whose eyes were wide with fear and confusion. His hands were cuffed tightly in front of him, so when he was thrown to the ground inside the jail cell, he could only break his fall with his elbows and forearms. Snyder picked him up and dragged him to the center of the cell where he positioned him on his knees facing Jack. For the first time, Jack felt scared. His heart was pounding faster and faster with his headache mirroring it.

"No, no, please no," Jack protested. "You can do whatever you want to me, but Race is innocent. Please don't hurt him. Please let him go." Begging made Jack feel dirty, but he had no time to worry about his own feelings when that monster's hand was resting on Race's shoulder.

Race's fear was growing. He had never seen Jack so panicked. Snyder smiled, which made them both feel worse. "Like I was saying, beating the crap out of you just doesn't have the same satisfaction it used to, Kelly, but if I mess with your boy here, I think that would be worse for you than any physical pain I can inflict."

Obviously he was right. Jack could take anything, but he was not going to be able to handle Snyder torturing his brother. Before he could protest any more, Snyder retrieved a cane and delivered a blow to Race's lower back. Race grunted in pain, and Jack instinctively closed his eyes tightly and lowered his head. "Oh no no," Snyder said to Jack. "You will watch, or I'll start over."

Jack raised his head slowly, meeting Race's piercing blue eyes, trying to convey a silent apology as Snyder hit him again and again and again. Snyder was very talented with his cane. He never missed his target, never allowed his victim a moment to catch his breath. He was so good with his aim that after 20 or more strokes, a kid would only be left with four burning red stripes on his back, exactly where Snyder intended. Race took it well; Jack told himself that Race is strong, but he would never forgive himself for bringing this on him.

Eventually when Snyder grew tired of Race, he turned and nodded at his guards, one of which entered the cell, dragged Race to the perimeter, and seated him beside Jack with his back to the bars and legs straight out in front of him. He fastened his handcuffs to a hook on the horizontal bar above his head. It wouldn't be long before his hands would go numb from lack of blood flow, and his shoulders and back ached from the positioning, not to mention the beating. Meanwhile, the other guard left and reappeared with Specs, placing him on his knees in front of Snyder, where he could be beaten in front of an audience made up of Jack and Race.

"Please, Spider," Jack begged, realizing if Snyder had Race and Specs, he might have a whole lot more of his brothers. "Please don't. I'll do whatever you want. Please leave them alone." His voice started shaking, so he stopped talking. He felt tears burning his eyes but knew better than to let Snyder see. Snyder didn't acknowledge that Jack even spoke, and his cane came crashing down on Specs' back. Specs drew in a sharp breath, from surprise more than pain, and he didn't make another noise the rest of his beating. Race brought his knees to his chest and buried his head so he didn't have to watch. Snyder didn't pay him any attention, only watching Jack's eyes fill with tears that he didn't dare let spill over.

As Jack predicted, it didn't stop with Specs. One after another—Albert, Romeo, JoJo, Finch, Elmer, Sniper— guards paraded newsboys into the jail cell, positioning them on their knees in front of Snyder, always having them face Jack so he could easily watch their pained faces. Then when they were done their turns, moving them to the perimeter where their hands would be cuffed above their heads in a front row seat to watch the next brother be tortured. Each boy was more terrified and confused than the last, being thrown into a room where their brothers sat broken and helpless. With every stoke of the cane, Jack felt like he was the one being beaten, and he wished he were. His heart was breaking, his headache growing, he internally cringed as he watched them each take their turns, but he remained stoic, refused to show Snyder any weakness.

When a guard dragged Crutchie into the cell, Jack's stomach dropped. His crutch was missing, surely confiscated to make escape impossible, and his bad leg looked like it was giving him more trouble than usual. None of his brothers deserved this torture, but Crutchie least of them all. His ever present smile was gone, which alone was enough to make Jack want to cry. Snyder began the next beating but quickly grew angry with Crutchie's inability to hold his position on his knees. Jack could tell Crutchie wasn't going to say anything, so he had to stick up for him. "Spider, he obviously can't sit like the others, look at his bum leg."

"Oh, he has a bad leg? Which one, this one?" Snyder asked as his cane came crashing down on Crutchie's right calf with all of his strength behind it. Crutchie, who had been doing such a good job maintaining his composure, let out a blood curdling scream. The rest of the boys reacted with gasps of horror. Jack glared at Snyder, who only slyly smiled back at him while he shoved Crutchie to the ground face first and continued his beating like that's how he wanted him positioned all along. Jack cringed, but secretly was glad he didn't have to look Crutchie in the face anymore.

Just when Jack thought his heart couldn't break anymore, that his headache couldn't possibly get worse, that he was at his lowest low point, a quiet question came from Race just beside him. "Jack? What are we gonna do?" He wished there were anything he could do. The anger inside of him wanted to rush Snyder, steal the cane out of his hand, and turn it against him. He knew he had enough adrenaline pumping through his body that he could take him, even though he was half a foot shorter and 75 pounds smaller. The rational side of him knew as soon as he made any movement toward Snyder, at least two guards would stop him before he could get half way, and it would only mean worse beatings for his brothers. So Jack had calculated, as he watched Crutchie helplessly lying in a pool of his own blood and tears, that there was absolutely nothing he could do.

After Crutchie came Mush, Buttons, Smalls, and Henry. It didn't seem like Snyder was slowing down at all. When he was done with Henry and demanded the next boy, two guards entered with Davey and Les, who couldn't be pried from his brother's arms. "We couldn't separate them," a guard whispered shyly to Snyder. Snyder tried pulling Les off of his brother, but when he realized his attempts were futile, he began swinging his cane indiscriminately making contact with both of their arms, backs, heads until Les dropped. Jack gathered Les and pulled him to his lap, shielding his eyes and ears by hugging his head to his chest. Jack was younger than Les his first time in the Refuge; he had not yet turned eight, and Snyder did not take it easy on him. He still has scars from that trip, not only physical, and his heart broke thinking about innocent Les facing the same fate.

The guards slapped on Davey's handcuffs and positioned him in front of Snyder. Les screamed and cried into Jack as Davey received his beating. "I'm fine, Les," Davey breathed between lashes, but it only antagonized Snyder and made it worse. Davey's beating was the hardest of all the boys', and when he was finished, a guard handcuffed Davey to the perimeter and pulled Les out of Jack's lap to the center of the cell.

Les had tears streaming down his face, but Snyder had no sympathy. All the boys looked away, Davey buried his face in his knees, and only Jack watched as Snyder instructed. "Stop crying, boy, and I'll take it easy on you," Snyder demanded. Les sniffled and wiped his tears on the back of his hand. "Hold your hands out in front of you, palms up." Les did as he was told, but as soon as Snyder's cane came down on his palms, he yelped and recoiled.

"Les," Jack called, and their eyes met. "You can do this. You're so brave. Take a deep breath and stay strong. Focus on staying nice and still and it will be over sooner." Les nodded and did as Jack instructed, but when Snyder hit him again, he couldn't help but pull away.

Snyder walked over to Davey, unhooked him, and dragged him back to the center. "Your brother will hold you still so you can finish your punishment," Snyder told Les. Davey stood behind him, his handcuffs offering just enough slack so he could reach around to tightly hold Les's wrists still as Snyder continued his beating. Davey couldn't watch. He buried his face in Les's hair, planting a kiss on the crown of his head, but just listening was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

After what must have been hours of torturing the boys, Snyder left with a promise to return tomorrow. Jack's headache was growing, but he was the only one who hadn't been beaten until he was bloody, so he had nothing to complain about. He wished there were anything he could do to help his brothers, but he knew there was nothing. Instead, he took a quiet moment with each boy as he unhooked their handcuffs from the bar above their heads. He rested his forehead against theirs, rubbed their shoulders, wrists, hands, anything to bring any semblance of comfort while apologizing over and over.

"Hey, we're okay," Crutchie reassured Jack with a smile. "We'll all be okay. You don't have nothin' to worry about, and you don't have nothin' to apologize for." The other newsies agreed, but Jack shook his head, ashamed he'd allowed this to happen. He was supposed to protect them. How had he let this happen?

Unhooking their handcuffs from the bar gave some much-needed relief, but the handcuffs were still locked tightly on their wrists, and there was no comfortable way to rest in the cement cell with their backs burning from Snyder's cane. For the remainder of the night, the newsboys fluttered between being too tired to stay awake and being in too much pain to sleep.

Just as light was creeping in the window, the boys still sprawled out on the floor, Snyder returned with his cane to begin another full day of beatings. "Who said it was okay to unhook your cuffs?" Snyder demanded, and the boys looked around at each other, knowing Snyder already knew the answer and would surely punish Jack for his indiscretion.

"Oh please, Spider," Jack mustered, bravely. "You expect them to sleep with their arms above their heads?"

"No," Snyder replied bluntly. "I don't expect them to sleep at all." The boys were still scattered on the ground, struggling to sit up and return to their posts where Snyder clearly wanted them to be. Snyder paced around the room, taking care to step on or kick any boys he deemed not moving fast enough. "Your fearless leader made a grave mistake," Snyder continued to lecture, waving around his cane, taunting. "Kelly, you can pick three of your friends here to have two turns with me today."

"No, Spider," Jack argued. "I'll go two times today or six times today or 30 times today or whatever it will take for you to keep your hands off of them." But Snyder reiterated that there was nothing Jack could do to protect the others, and if he didn't pick quickly, he could choose five friends instead. Jack shook his head and refused to look at Snyder or any of his brothers in the eye, but he knew if he didn't make the decision, it would be worse for everyone. A handful of the boys had previous stays in the Refuge, and he figured they'd have the most experience in not showing Snyder any weakness. Albert, Finch, and Buttons were the oldest and strongest of those who Jack trusted to handle it, and all three of them gave Jack nods of approval, that they would gladly suffer so no one else had to.

One by one, Snyder dragged each boy to the middle, starting with Jack's three chosen victims, so they could get another turn at the end. As he delivered the beatings, he was only watching Jack's tortured face as he watched his brothers take the pain intended for him. Jack grimaced with every stroke, but he knew it would be worse for his brothers if he looked away. His head and heart hadn't stopped pounding since yesterday morning.

"Try to relax," Jack instructed. "It hurts more if your muscles are tense." He knew this to be true from experience, but he also knew it was easier said than done. When the cane is whistling through the air, it's only natural to flex your muscles in preparation for the pain. He just felt like he had to do something, maybe this advice would help. Probably not. He really wished he could trade places with his brothers.

Les's screams during his turn made Jack's headache worse, but it must have annoyed Snyder too, because his turn was the shortest of everyone's. Davey was grateful for that, because he was getting dangerously close to crying. Otherwise, the first round of beatings was tolerable, at least no worse than the day prior. Snyder still had a lot of room to land his cane, not having to hit the exact places that were already bruised. However, he was running low on space for the three boys who were sentenced to two turns.

Albert's second turn was significantly more painful as the cane only made contact with areas that were already hurting from before. He had a difficult time remaining upright on his knees. Each blow forced him forward and with his hands cuffed, he struggled to catch then reposition himself appropriately. Snyder was growing tired with the added time. "Stay still, boy, or we'll start over," Snyder demanded. When he fell forward at the next stroke, Snyder didn't give him time to get back up. He swung his cane as hard as he could, continually making contact in the same painful spot as Albert curled in a ball on the floor with his face buried in his arms. When it was over, Albert didn't move, trying to quickly and discreetly dry his tears before any of his brothers could see. He only made eye contact with Jack who easily noticed his wet eyes, breaking his heart even more.

Finch and Buttons learned from Albert, and the first time they were knocked over, they didn't even attempt to get up. Even though they knew Snyder intentionally hit them longer and harder than he otherwise would have, it was easier than trying to stay upright, and there wasn't the added pressure of saving face in front of Snyder.

When Snyder was done with them, he casually returned to where Race was cuffed, unhooked him from the prison bars, and dragged him towards the center of the cell. All of the boys protested, especially Jack. "Hey! You said three boys, and you already took Albert, Finch, and Buttons! Don't you dare touch Race!"

Snyder looked at Jack and smiled, which made Jack's stomach turn. "Oh he's not getting a second turn," Snyder assured. "He's just going on a little field trip." He continued to drag Race toward the door of the cell, and Race's eyes grew wide with panic. Jack ran after them, grabbing Race's hands, trying to pull him back. All it earned him was a swift kick to the abdomen, which forced him to collapse on the ground, as Snyder dragged Race behind him until they were out of sight. The rest of the boys sat, mouths agape, absolutely petrified for their brother to be alone with Snyder in an unknown location.

"He's gonna be fine," Davey reasoned, breaking the silence. "Snyder only hurts Race to torture Jack. He can't get any pleasure out of it if Jack isn't there to see it." The other newsies nodded, partially relieved, but mostly unsure.


	3. Chapter 3

Across the building, Snyder dumped Race in a new but similar room, but this time without his brothers. Loneliness and fear were overwhelming any pain Race was in from the earlier beating, although the pain was severe. He sat alone for hours before Snyder returned, and Race's heart rate increased drastically, but he knew to show him no fear. "Evening, Spider," he said, channeling his inner Jack Kelly.

"Racetrack, is it?" greeted Snyder. "You seem to be one of Jack's favorites. I figured him not knowing what I was doing to you would really mess with his head. He's been here enough times to know what I'm capable of, so I'll just let his imagination run wild." Race swallowed hard, but continued to stare Snyder down, not wavering at all. He knew Jack would be proud of him. "And I know my favorite part of hitting you is seeing the pained look on Kelly's face as he watches, but if I return you to him all busted up and he just has to wonder what you went through, well, that would probably be just as exciting for me."

Race took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. Before he had much time to think, Snyder ripped off Race's shirt and tossed it aside and shoved him so he was flat on the ground on his stomach with his cuffed arms above his head. Race's heart started pounding even faster when he heard Snyder take out his belt. He squeezed his eyes and fists and gritted his teeth as he was whipped across his back and the backs of his legs. When Snyder used his cane, it was always in a predictable pattern. Once he made contact, Race could bet the next 4-5 blows would land on the same spot and prepare himself for it, but his belt was much more disorganized. When it was blazing through the air, Race had no idea if it would hit his calves or the back of his thighs or his shoulder blades or his lower back where the cane had already broken skin. He tried to focus on his breathing, in and out, nice and slow, and tried to stay as still as possible to keep from aggravating Snyder any more, but the pain was becoming more and more severe. He involuntarily began writhing away from the belt, which angered Snyder, as predicted. "Anytime you move, that lash doesn't count." No matter how hard he tried, Race couldn't keep from pulling away, growing frustrated that he was only extending his own torture.

Race wasn't sure if he passed out or if Snyder had just finished with him, but eventually he was alone again. He was in the fetal position, still trying to breathe, focus on anything other than the searing pain. He fluttered in and out of consciousness for the rest of the night.

He was awakened for good the next morning by a blow to the head with Snyder's cane. The skin immediately broke open and blood poured down his face. The way it burned his eyes was way overshadowed by the massive headache and wave of dizziness and nausea that hit immediately. Snyder sneered and carried the bloodied stick to see Jack and the other boys, leaving Race grasping his head and writhing in pain.

Before Snyder could reach the other jail cell, Jack approached the bars and screamed to Snyder to bring back Race. "You can have some of his blood," Snyder laughed, handing his cane to Jack, which Jack immediately threw back at him. Tears crept to the eyes of many of the boys, but Jack's overwhelming emotion was anger.

"Enough, Spider," Jack screamed, his ears hot and face red, startling the other newsies. "You can keep me here the rest of my life, I don't care, but you need to let these boys go."

"Well, I can let them go, but you're going to need them to get Racetrack back." Jack's stomach was in knots. "I thought yesterday was fun, some of you getting two turns, didn't you?" Snyder kicked at Albert's feet, almost playfully, and Albert quickly bent his knees away from Snyder's touch and turned to Jack with his eyes pleading for help. "The only way you see Racetrack again is for every last one of you to receive two beatings. You can all go twice today, and you'll get him back tonight, or once today and once tomorrow, and you'll get him back tomorrow night. Or you can spread them out even more than that, give everyone a day off or two, but Racetrack stays in his new room until everyone has two days' worth of beatings. I'll wait right here, Kelly." He positioned himself in the middle of the cell, twirling his cane around effortlessly. "And you bring them to me in any order. Or, hey, like you suggested, we can send them all home now, and you'll stay here alone, and Racetrack will stay where he is until he dies, which, if I'm being honest, won't be very long."

Jack cringed. Snyder was even more evil than he could have imagined. Of course he needed to get Race back as quickly as possible. He couldn't risk him facing Snyder alone over another night. But after watching Albert, Finch, and Buttons struggle through two beatings yesterday, he knew he couldn't ask them to do it again today. He also knew the younger boys, Elmer, Henry, Romeo, certainly Les, could never survive two turns in one day. Jack's thoughts were racing, his headache ever present. Snyder stood smiling at Jack's predicament.

The boys could tell Jack was too stunned to speak. Davey—he always was the brains of the operation—was the first to break the silence. "We need to get Race back now. We all need to go twice today. Can everyone do that?" Almost all newsies said they could. Finch hesitated, remembering how bad it was yesterday, but then he looked at Race's blood on Snyder's cane and knew he had to do it for Race. Les looked at Davey, knowing his brother wouldn't let him do it if he couldn't handle it, and Davey's expression told him he would be okay, though they were actually both unsure.

Davey helped Jack come up with a strategy for the younger ones to go toward the beginning and again toward the end to give them the most recovery time, still allowing everyone else enough time between their two turns. It was the worst day of Jack's life. Race's absence made him feel like a piece of himself was missing. He knew that just because Snyder was with them and not Race didn't mean Race was safe. The guards at the Refuge were all Snyders-in-training, and their beatings hurt just as much, Jack knew from experience. He was sure Race was dealing with it while Snyder tortured the rest.

While his thoughts were with Race, directly in front of him, his 14 other brothers were definitely nearing their breaking points. The newsboys were getting very good at feigning indifference, and to the untrained eye, they might appear completely unaffected by Snyder's torture, but Jack knew how badly it hurt, and none of them could hide anything from him. Jack struggled to keep eye contact as the beatings got more painful, and his guilt was growing.

During JoJo's second turn, he saw the worry in Jack's eyes. He called to him. "We're doing it for Racer, Jack. We'd do anything for Racer." Jack nodded, in agreement and in apology, because he'd do anything for any of them, but there was nothing he could do. All of their pain was because of him, and now JoJo felt the need to comfort him when it should be the other way around. Snyder hadn't even laid a finger on Jack, but he was absolutely correct when he told him it would be his most miserable stay at the Refuge.


	4. Chapter 4

The newsies were awakened by a very pale and bloody half-conscious Race wearing only shorts being thrown into the cell by a guard who slammed the gate shut behind him. The boys twisted and pulled against their cuffs trying to get to him, but only Jack was able to run to Race, cradling his head in his lap.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Are you with me?" Jack ran his fingers through Race's blonde curls which had turned red and were matted to his forehead by blood and sweat. "Racer, what did he do to you?"

Race's eyes fluttered open and closed, and he mumbled indistinguishably.

"Okay, okay, I've got you. You're safe now," Jack reassured, realizing too late that he really wasn't safe. None of them were. And judging by the blood pouring out of a gaping wound on Race's head, he was likely the least safe of them all.

"We gotta keep him awake," Davey noted. "Keep talking to him."

"Racer, stay with me," Jack pleaded.

His eyes opened just barely, but they had lost the light that usually filled them. "It hurts so much," he whispered weakly.

"I know, I know," Jack comforted, touching his forehead which was burning hot. "You're okay, Racer." Jack turned to Davey, eyes communicating that Race was very much not okay.

When Snyder finally returned later that morning, Jack demanded help for Race. "He needs medicine, he needs water, food, he'll die without it. Murder's gotta be crossing a line, even for you, Spider."

"Hm, I could probably get him those things," Snyder offered, producing a basic first aid kit and a bucket of water with a rag that could be used to clean up his wounds, maybe even break his fever. "Just a simple trade: these life-saving supplies for one of your boys coming with me to where Racetrack just was. You can pick whoever you'd like, Kelly."

"No," Race fought weakly, his eyes remaining closed. He'd rather die than have one of his brothers suffer his same fate.

All of their eyes dropped, as did Jack's stomach. He knew Race needed the supplies, but he would be subjecting another innocent boy to Snyder's belt, a torture even worse than the cane. But maybe one of the older, bigger boys could handle it. Jack looked to Davey for silent advice, and Davey's expression told him he needed to do it for Race. Jack scanned the room until he met Specs' brave eyes volunteering. Specs is tough, so strong, so brave, and he gave Jack a slight nod. Jack hesitated, still unsure, but Race's blood was pooling in his lap, and he couldn't let him die like this. "You can take Specs," Jack conceded. A guard unhooked Specs, and Jack was able to give his shoulder a tight squeeze on his way out. "You're a warrior." Specs nodded, taking one last glance at Race, knowing he was doing the right thing.

The belt hurt way worse than Specs expected, but he distracted himself by thinking of Race getting the help he needs. Every so often, Snyder would pause for long enough between lashes that Specs would think it was over, but then the beating would continue, a terrible mind game that was torture on its own. No wonder Race came back looking as pale and miserable as he did. As the pain became more severe, he decided to stop focusing on saving face in front of Snyder, and instead focus all of his energy on staying as still as possible. He knew any movement would only extend his torture, so as long as he stayed still, he didn't care that he started screaming and crying, both of which pleased Snyder immensely.

Jack tried to be as gentle as possible scrubbing the dried blood from Race's face, always pausing at his forehead, hoping the cool rag could bring down his temperature. Any sort of pressure or movement of his head was enough to make Race feel sick, and he whimpered involuntarily every time. "Please stop," he quietly begged Jack, which made his heart break in two.

"I'm sorry," Jack said. "I have to keep going, I have to clean you up, we have to break your fever." Race agreed but closed his eyes tightly, and continued to grimace and beg, gutting Jack every time. Jack's head throbbed, knowing Race's hurt worse. He was finally able to find the source of all the blood and wrap it tightly with a bandage. The wounds on Race's back and legs were mostly superficial, but every inch of skin from the base of his neck to the top of his ankles was bruised severely. Jack remembered some encounters with Snyder's belt in past stays at the Refuge, probably the worst punishment one could take, and he grew nauseated thinking about Race and now Specs facing that torture.

Jack sat Race up and held his head in his hands, his skin still burning hot. Race tried to look Jack in the eyes, but his headache prevented him from being able to focus, and his vision swam. He was shivering from a combination of fever, fear, and lack of food. Race fought against Jack's grip wanting lay his head back down, but he just collapsed into his brother. Jack cradled Race's head against his chest wrapping him tightly trying to help him feel warm. Race listened to Jack's heartbeat and tried to mirror his breathing to slow his own, but it was hard to think about anything other than how this was the most pain he had ever been in.

"He beat me for hours," Race quietly confided without opening his eyes, and Jack listened intently, letting his friend share while he gently touched his hair. "When I thought there was no way I could take any more, he wasn't even half way done with me yet. Eventually, I musta passed out, and I woke up when he cracked my head open with that big stick. Then he let his guards deal with me. Everything hurts. It all hurts so, so bad." Jack sighed. The rest of the boys looked on, terrified.

"We're gonna get you out of here, we're gonna get you home, and you'll be safe and sound in your bed in the lodging house. We'll get you medicine for pain and for fever and you'll be good as new, Racer," Jack promised. Race offered a small smile, but deep down felt that he was going to die in this cell. "Your brothers fought for you. They went through a lot to get you back, so now you gotta fight for them. You gotta stay alive, Racer."


	5. Chapter 5

Specs returned looking to Jack as pathetic as Race. He put up a tougher front, so as to not worry the rest of the boys, but he was pale and sweaty, bloody and bruised. His eyes looked the same as Race's, though a deep brown, just as empty, lacking their usual light. Jack lay a hand on his forehead and was relieved he wasn't feverish like Race, but still knew he was unwell. Jack was the only one who caught the glance Specs shot at Race, one that clearly said they'd both been through hell. "You're a warrior," Jack reminded him, and he knew more than ever that he had to get his brothers out of here.

Jack spent every waking hour trying to come up with an escape plan. He had never been handcuffed, but everyone else was, and he would never risk leaving them alone. Escape would mean unlocking 15 sets of handcuffs, getting out the jail cell door, then the basement door, and the front door of the Refuge, all of which locked from the outside.

One night, while the boys struggled to sleep, there was a quiet tapping at the window. It caught the boys' attention, but no one knew how to handle it. A small light came through the window, and it opened slowly. "Jack? Boys? Are you in there?" Katherine. She was lying flat on her stomach in the middle of the sidewalk in the middle of the night. She scanned the room with her flashlight and was horrified to see the damage Snyder had done to the boys. Race and Specs were both half-dressed and pale as could be, looking close to death. Les had clearly not stopped crying in days. It was obvious none of them had eaten. Jack was the only one not bloodied, but he looked just as broken as the rest of them.

"Katherine, you gotta get outta here," Jack begged approaching the corner of the cell that was closest to the window. He could only imagine what Snyder would do to her if he knew how much she meant to him.

"Not without every last one of you," she replied, realizing as she spoke how difficult a task it would be. One might say it was impossible, but Katherine wasn't going to leave them in these conditions.

A sound from within the Refuge indicated Snyder was returning. Katherine disappeared with a promise to return with a plan. The beatings did not get any easier. However, the boys realized that Snyder focused his attention solely on Jack, so as long as they remained silent, they could grit their teeth and grimace as much as they wanted without giving Snyder the satisfaction, since he never once glanced in their direction during their beatings.

Race and Specs were the last two turns that day, both of them still cuffed but not attached to their posts, their heads resting on Jack's lap as they balanced between sleep and unconsciousness. Snyder attempted to drag Specs to the center for his turn, but quickly realized he was uncooperative and motionless. Jack pulled him back into himself and glared at Snyder, eyes communicating he better not touch these two again. Snyder glared back, but by some miracle decided to leave the boys alone, probably knowing he'd get no satisfaction if they couldn't stay alert. "They'll get two turns tomorrow, though," he guaranteed as he exited the cell. Jack breathed hard as he hugged his two brothers tightly.

That night, Katherine made good on her promise and appeared in the window again. After leaving the boys the night before, she had climbed the fire escape and spoke with some of the other boys in the Refuge. They had told her how much easier the past week had been on them with Snyder being so preoccupied with his captives in the basement. When Katherine told them it was Jack Kelly and his friends, the boys knew they had to help them escape. Jack had helped them all more times than they could count. They told Katherine they'd be honored to repay him now.

One of the boys knew where to get the keys that would unlock their handcuffs, and if they could do that, there would be a pretty good chance at escape. The jail cell door key was hanging in the basement, and the key to the basement was surely in Snyder's office. Katherine could easily prop open the front door to the Refuge, so it would just be a matter of staying quiet enough to not get caught, and having enough energy despite the starvation to be quick enough to get away. It seemed daunting, but they were ready to try. They planned to attempt the next night.

When Snyder came down that morning, the boys' spirits were higher than they'd been in days. He could probably sense something was strange, which is why the beatings seemed to be the hardest yet. Jack's boys were so strong, but since the encounter with Snyder's belt, Race knew he wouldn't be able to handle another beating, definitely not two. Jack fought, but Snyder had let Race off easy the day before, so he wasn't going to let it happen again. After just one stoke of the cane, the pain brought on an intense wave of nausea, and Race announced he was going to be sick. His stomach tried to expel any contents, it felt like it was turning itself inside out, but with days of no food, he could only heave up saliva and stomach bile. He was forced onto all fours, coughing and spitting, sweating profusely, the most pitiful sight. It didn't stop Snyder from continuing the beating, smiling, gloating.

Race honestly didn't think he could survive it, he thought he'd die right there from pain or fever or both. He looked to his brothers for comfort, but all of them were too pained just listening, none of them able to make eye contact, except Jack of course. "You're strong, Racer," Jack said out loud, but his eyes said more: that he would survive this and they'd be out of the Refuge by midnight, that he'd get to spend the night in his own bed in the lodging house with a full belly and a warm blanket and tomorrow this will all be an awful memory. At last, the beating stopped and Race collapsed to the floor, allowing the tears to come but hiding his face in his arms. Jack rushed to his side, placed one comforting hand on his shoulder, the other on his head. Snyder simply ignored them, and dragged his next victim forward, continuing on like nothing out of the ordinary happened.


	6. Chapter 6

Snyder left, and Katherine appeared in the window not much later to confirm the plan. She would prop open the outside door, then enter the Refuge to unlock the bedroom door of the boys upstairs. They would get to Snyder's office for the basement key, unlock the jail cell door and newsboys' cuffs, and escape as quickly and quietly as possible. Katherine was terrified, but she knew she didn't have a choice, and Jack's smile and wink calmed her, though he was equally scared. She disappeared and the boys were left to wait.

The moments crawled by, and it felt like hours passed before Katherine returned with a couple of the boys from the Refuge. Jack's heart raced and he ran to greet her. The two shared a passionate kiss through the bars of the cell, long enough that Davey had to interrupt and remind Jack the mission of the evening. He bashfully pulled away, but couldn't break eye contact with Katherine, couldn't wait to wrap her in a proper hug.

There was only one set of keys for the cuffs, so Jack directed the boy with the keys to unlock Race and Specs first, knowing they needed to get out more than the others. Next was Crutchie who needed as much of a head start as he could get, god forbid someone starts chasing them. The others followed in no particular order, while Katherine opened the jail cell door. As soon as it was opened, the uncuffed boys started filing out and Katherine escorted them. Jack stayed behind to ensure the safety of all of them; he would never leave until everyone was out safely.

When the last of the boys was uncuffed, Jack shook hands with the boys who helped them escape. He promised to return to help them as soon as it was safe, but they were truly just happy to assist the legendary Jack Kelly. They knew the tortures one faced in the basement; they knew Jack would have done the same for them if roles were reversed. Jack crossed the front door of the Refuge and broke into a sprint. He was able to count Katherine plus all 15 boys ahead of him.

Some boys struggled on the run from the Refuge to the lodging house. It was a couple of miles and no one had eaten in days. They were exhausted and weak and in a lot of pain. Their hearts pounded and their lungs tightened and their muscles ached, but the desire to be home and finally be safe carried them faster than they had run before. Even Crutchie hopped along (when he wasn't being carried) at a quicker pace than anyone would have thought possible.

As soon as they crossed the threshold into the lodging house, they collapsed from exhaustion and from relief at being home, being free. Albert and Henry got supplies to wrap up Crutchie's bad leg. He grimaced when they touched it, but his carefree smile returned when they were done. Davey held Les on his lap, thinking he'd never ever let him go. Specs and Race, being the most injured of all the boys, waved off the excess attention they drew. "I'm fine," Specs reassured, panting with his head between his knees, trying to catch his breath and focus as his vision danced. Buttons sat down with him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Race's coloring hadn't returned to normal. Katherine fetched him a glass of ice water and rubbed his back as she helped him force it down. His head was still swimming, but with the realization that he and his brothers were home safely, he started feeling better already.

Katherine had brought dinner for all the boys, but warned them to take it easy since their stomachs would be sensitive after so long without food. Most listened to her because they trusted her, and they felt satisfied after only a little bit of bread and some soup. Romeo, however, ate so much so fast that he immediately ran to the bathroom to throw it all back up, but he honestly didn't care. He felt so safe and comfortable and happy to be home, nothing could ruin his mood.

The rest of the evening, the boys shuffled around the lodging house, hugging each other in celebration of their newfound freedom as they got cleaned up and ready for bed. If anyone had stopped to think about it, they'd notice how much pain they were still in, backs on fire, wrists rubbed raw, completely devoid of energy, but the excitement of being home overshadowed any and all of that.

Girls weren't typically allowed to stay overnight in the lodging house, but this was an extenuating circumstance, so Katherine was already in Jack's bed while Jack said his quiet goodnights to each brother. He sat down on his bed and gave Katherine a kiss. "I'm going to stay up tonight, just in case anyone needs me. They've all been through a lot."

"You've been through a lot too," Katherine corrected, pulling him into bed and cuddling him. "You need rest." Jack nodded and cuddled her back, but he knew he wouldn't sleep. As soon as he'd returned from his first stint at the Refuge, he'd had nightmares of Snyder torturing him. The dreams he hated even more were when he'd dream of his brothers being there facing Snyder's wrath. But his reality was worse than even his worst nightmare. Every single one of his brothers were there, tortured, and it was all his fault. He still felt sick thinking about it, even though they were all safe now.

Jack's head was still pounding, though Katherine's fingers running through his hair was comforting. When Katherine's breathing slowed and Jack knew she was asleep, he carefully crawled out of bed to check on everyone. Crutchie's bad leg was propped up on a pillow, and he was sleeping peacefully with his smile plastered on his face. Specs was sprawled out on his stomach snoring softly with some bags of ice resting on the more sore parts of his back. Race was whimpering and wincing in his sleep, but was at least asleep. Jack felt his forehead, still warm, but improving. Jack was relieved. Race would be okay. They all would. He glanced around the room at the rest of the boys, all sleeping soundly, and he climbed back into bed with Katherine. She remained asleep but cuddled against him closer.

He held her tightly and reflected on the past week, easily the worst week of his life. He couldn't close his eyes without reliving the sights and sounds of his worst nightmare. He couldn't get the images of his brother's pained faces or bloodied bodies out of his head. He couldn't stop hearing Snyder's cane whistle through the air until it made contact with one of his boys. Still, with Katherine lying against his chest, he realized how lucky he is to have them all in his life, so many people he loves so much he would do anything for. It brought him comfort, and the comfort eventually brought him sleep.


End file.
